


The meddling of Molly Weasley

by Hold_en



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Humor, Set Up, Sexual Humor, matchmaker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hold_en/pseuds/Hold_en
Summary: Blind to the dangers of meddling in other people's romantic lives, Molly Weasley decides to set up Severus Snape and Hermione Granger.  It quickly becomes apparent that subterfuge is the only way to go for this stubborn pair.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 89
Kudos: 190





	1. Chapter 1

Molly touched her hair, trying to smooth some of the frizzy parts at her temple. It was humid inside the crowded banquet hall and all the bodies talking and breathing were making the air warm and damp.

"Quite the turn out," Arthur whistled as he looked around the sea of faces. His hand was loosley around her waist and he sipped his wine slowly.

Molly looked to her husband in his lovely blue robes and smiled. He was freshly shaved and smelling delightful. He changed his robes four times before settling on the midnight blue ones that really set off his eyes.

Molly herself was dressed in several layers of gauzy green fabric. Her rust colored hair was in at loose chignon at the nape of her neck. Some Ministry personnel came sauntering over clapping Arthur on the back and beginning to talk animatedly about some new Muggle artifacts that they had recently acquired.

While Molly supported her husband and everything that he did (aside from bringing the Muggle junk from his office home to clutter the Burrow) the topic of Muggles did not excite her as much as it did he. Instead of listening to learn more about this " _internet_ " the men were babbling about she let her eyes wander around the expansive hall flitting over familiar faces

Her attention was eventually drawn to a tall and solitary figure at the corner of the room drinking a rich looking wine and looking miserable. His inky black eyes were scanning the crowd as well, finding no one that seemed worthy to talk to.

It was none other than Severus Snape, former potions Master, Headmaster and now current apothecary owner.

Molly didn't see him very much, especially out at social events such as these. She was surprised to see him at all actually and she wondered what could have compelled the normally private and taciturn man to attend such a function.

Since the fall of Voldemort, Snape seemed to recede even more into himself. His posture was still stiff, his face still haughty. His work at the apothecary took up all his time and he was rarely seen outside his shop.

He stood stiffly at the edge of the large ballroom, his raven gaze settling on the faces of the guests walking by. Molly realized with sympathy that this entire event must be incredibly taxing on the man.

"Let's go say hello to Severus," Molly insisted, pulling Arthur along with her as he said goodbye to his co-worker.

"Molly, the man's doing his best to cloak himself in shadows. He obviously doesn't want to be disturbed."

"Oh nonsense."

Severus gave a polite smile that didn't quite touch his Obsidian eyes as she and Arthur ambled their way across the crowded floor. 

"Good evening Severus!" Molly said with a joyous refrain. "So good to see you!"

She winced as she heard the brash desperation in her voice. She had meant to sound friendly and disarming but was acutely aware that it had come across shrill and trying far too hard to sound jovial.

"Good evening, Molly," he said in that familiar rumble.

"You must be thrilled," Molly continued on, feeling anxious under the man's scrutinizing gaze. "An _Order of Merlin First Class_ is quite a coup!"

He said nothing, choosing to give a short nod instead. Immediately Molly flinched at the subtle rebuff, never really feeling comfortable around the man. It didn't matter that they'd been in the Order together and that they had fought alongside one another.

The fact of the matter was that Severus Snape was one of the most intimidating people she ever knew and now knowing all she did about his past and the things that he had done she was even more intimidated.

It had been five years since the fall of Voldemort and tonight's belated awards ceremony was more to keep in with popular opinion. There'd been so much devastation, so much rebuilding to do. The thought of Order of Merlin had previously seemed too far away idea, but now on the fifth anniversary it seemed more important than ever that the individuals involved in such a momentous occasion were properly acknowledged.

Molly waited for Severus to try to take the reins of the conversation. But instead he just simply stared over her head and gave Arthur a passing nod of respect. Molly flinched, unsure of what she should do next.

Someone suddenly swam into a familiar view as a brunette with warm brown eyes walk towards them with large smile on her face. She was dressed in a modest gown of deep crimson, and her hair hung in stylish waves down her back.

"Hello Molly!"

"Oh, Hermione!" Molly brought her into a motherly embrace. "I'm so proud of you. All of you."

She turned to include Snape in this exchange but he was looking at something else. She turned back to Hermione with a smile.

"Where are the boys?"

"With Ginny," Hermione said with a large knowing smile. "I think she's more excited than the boys are!"

"Isn't that always the case," Molly said with a trill. "Severus here doesn't seem too thrilled with his medal either."

Molly could see he was uncomfortable with the attention being thrown on him and so she diverted her attention back to the cheerful looking Hermione.

"Where's Victor?" Molly said looking over Hermione's shoulder for the tall Bulgarian. Hermione immediately deflated, looking chagrined.

"Erm, in Bulgaria."

"Is he training?" Arthur asked with tone of surprise. "I thought his team had the spring off?"

"No, he's not training. We, uh, we actually broke up," Hermione finally said, her eyes darting to Snape, obviously embarrassed to be talking of her love life with her bitter Professor only steps away.

Snape had always gone to such lengths to embarrass Hermione as a student and she seemed to be preparing herself for an arsenal of insults.

"I'm so sorry," Molly said, bringing a hand to her mouth. She was surprised to see the girl didn't look that upset.

"Yes, well, I'm sure Rita Skeeter will be overjoyed to publish that I've broken his heart yet again," Hermione said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "I wonder what horrid names she'll call me this time."

" _The Prophet_ never ceases to amaze with the tripe they print," Snape offered out of nowhere. "It's a wonder it's still in circulation."

It was well known how Snape felt about the newspaper. The poor man's romantic history had been splashed over the prophet a full month after the fall of Voldemort. His long buried love for Lily Evans was now common knowledge and referenced _ad nauseam_ in every article they published about the man. 

And yet, as he explained the month he returned from the hospital, recovering from his wounds, (in a very regrettable interview with the horrid beetle herself) his promise to Lily and her son was over and he could bury that part of his life. He was ready to move on to the future and other things.

But the newspapers and the general public seem to think that he was the same sad man; the bitter Professor who never really got over his long-lost love.

"And yet it remains a staple in every wizarding household," Hermione said with a slump of her shoulders.

"I wouldn't take what they print to heart, Miss Granger," Snape offered.

"I don't," Hermione said with a shrug. "It's still not fun to see it though."

Snape looked as if he were going to say more when Harry and Ginny came rushing over. Ginny was pink cheeked - obviously having drunk too much of the free champagne. Harry just looked incandescently happy to be with his wife.

"Hello Snape," Harry said with a small smile. It felt strange to hear him drop off the honorific of Professor, but even stranger have him referred to as Mister Snape. Just plain Snape felt the safest bet.

"Mister Potter."

Snape never thought he would survive the war, which was evident. He'd even told Harry as much as he recovered from Nagini's bite in St Mungo's, or so Molly had glaned from Ginny.

The two men would never be close, but there was an unspoken civility now. Harry popped in to see him at his apothecary shop from time to time and Severus tolerated it. 

But now he looked as if he was trying to plot an escape. His beady eyes darted from space to space around them and he had just about made move to stride away when a young woman with bright yellow hair popped up in front of him.

Snape would have been fine with that if she did not also been clutching an autobiography that set his entire body on edge. The dog eared paperback stared back at him almost accusatory.

Molly saw his entire countenance changing, the subtle calm and grim determination that he had armed himself with this evening was suddenly gone. Irritation obviously flooded him and he fixed the girl with the most unearthly glare.

"Congratulations Mister Snape!" She cooed breathily looking up at him like a lovesick school girl. "May I just say how honored-"

"Yes, yes," Snape said breezily to the woman. "How honored for my sacrifice you are. I've heard it all before."

The young woman wasn't deterred instead of she shot and even brighter smile up at the taciturn face of Snape.

"I hope it's not too much trouble, but I brought that biography they published on you last spring: _Scoundrel or Saint_? Written by Rita Skeeter? I was wondering if you wouldn't mind signing it? I really enjoyed it!"

Snape looked as if his eyes were going to bolt right out of their sockets. There was as collective inhale from the group.

"That unauthorized memoir is not only full of misinformed opinions and half truths; It also has the dubious honor of being some of the most inept writing I've ever borne witness to. Anyone who could enjoy such drivel is bigger dunderhead than any of the students I ever had to teach."

The girl looked shocked, her cheeks flaming red before she muttered an apology and rushed into the kitchen. The group watched as she ran off, with Snape looking more and more pleased with himself. Hermione gave a shake of her head, obviously unimpressed with his behavior.

The girl passed George who was walking up with Neville. Never one to back down from authority, George clapped his former professor on the shoulder and made a toasting motion with his wineglass which was not returned.

“Oi, you’re scaring them off already are ya, Snape?” George took a sip of his wine. “It’s not even eight o’clock mate.”

"Severus" Molly offered in a quiet voice, hoping to distract Snape from what her son had said. "Why'd you do that, then?"

Snape looked down his long nose at Molly with a look of withering derision.

"Because she has appalling taste in books."

"She was very attractive," Molly offered for no particular reason. "And last I checked you were single."

The group tried to school their features as Snape stared at Molly blankly. Molly Weasley always spoke her mind, that was no shock. But to hear her do so with Severus Snape of all people? It was interesting to say the least.

When he didn't scream at her for asking about something so private they couldn't help but be intrigued as to what he would eventually say.

"Women like her are like silk curtains," Snape finally sneered. "Pretty to look at but completely transparent."

Molly noted that Arthur was trying to stifle a giggle behind his champagne glass at that. Harry and Ginny were exchanging looks like amusement as well as Molly. It was only Hermione who stood with a look of displeasure crossing her features.

"That's a horrible thing to say," Hermione admonished, her brows narrowed. "You don't know anything about her."

"I know her type," Snape replied contemptuously. "They all assume I'm a romantic figure still hung up on my past, when in reality nothing could be further from the truth."

"But she could have been really nice" Hermione insisted hotly, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. It was like S.P.E.W. all over again with her standing up for the disenfranchised even when they didn't ask her to.

"You didn't even speak to her for thirty seconds."

"I don't trust women who assume to know me because they've read a few uniformed articles," Snape groused. "Considering the last discussion we had was around Rita Skeeter and her inability to report anything properly, I'm sure you can understand my reasoning."

"I don't understand you at all," Hermione sniffed, still upset with his treatment of the blonde woman. "Least of all your reasoning. It seems nothing has changed since school."

The crowd grew quiet at that low blow. Arthur pretended to see something at the bottom of his wine glass. Ginny and Molly were looking around the room absently. Harry’s eyes had gone wide. Neville and George walked casually off. Even Hermione herself seemed to falter at the harshness of what she’d said. Her cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment at her faux pas.

Snape’s posture had grown even more rigid. His jaw visibly clenched and despite his resplendently tailored robes and regal countenance, he resembled the Snape of old in the dark way he stared at Hermione.

For a moment he appeared as if he were going to say something cruel before he stopped as if suddenly realizing how much he had dominated the conversation and the unwanted attention that came with it.

"I've people to meet. Good day."

He stalked off without giving them a second glance. Molly watched him walk away a pang of sympathy going through her. The poor boy had no social skills and even now as a war hero he seemed just as out of place as he had always been.

Harry and Ginny were talking to one another in whispers, their bodies against one another. Molly glanced out the corner of her eyes at Hermione who had deflated ever-so-slightly and was now staring at Harry and Ginny, a flash of longing sweeping over her countenance.

While Molly adored her daughter Ginny and loved Harry like a son and she was _overjoyed_ for their relationship, it hurt her to see Hermione sitting on the sidelines.

She always had a soft spot for the girl, ever since her tryst with Ron. Despite it not working out (not that anyone was too surprised) she couldn't help but feel like Hermione was like another daughter. The girl had been through so much.

"One day you'll have that," Molly said quietly, looking at Hermione's downcast face. Harry and Ginny suddenly excused themselves making their way to the stage.

"What man would want a know-it-all bookworm who spends all her free time at work?" Hermione replied in a wounded tone.

"A worthy man," was Molly's quick reply.

"I think they may all be taken," Hermione scoffed into her wine glass. "If they're not intimidated by my helping to defeat Voldemort, they're disappointed that my idea of romance doesn't include going down to the pub."

Molly smartest a bit at that last one. She was obviously referencing Ron. Their relationship had been like a candle - alight and then suddenly dwindling into nothing. Thankfully the two had parted as friends.

Ron had currently returned from France with his latest flame. Being a star Quidditch player meant that he was often away from home and usually on the arm has some leggy blonde. He had promised his mother that he would seek her out at the awards ceremony, but she had a feeling he was likely busy snogging his latest paramour in a wardrobe somewhere.

"It's not just that," Hermione continued with her arms crossed. "I want someone who will _challenge_ me. Someone who's not afraid to say what they think. Someone I can feel passion with and about. Viktor was lovely, but we didn't have the same interests or pursuits. We couldn't get passionate about the same things."

She seemed prepared to be going off on another tangent when all of a sudden Kingsley's voice boomed over head he stood at the center of the stage, his wand pressed to his throat to amplify the sound. Silence swept the large crowd as he moved to the podium.

"The ceremony will begin momentarily,” he said with a jovial grin. “Would all of those accepting awards tonight please meet backstage. The rest of you please take a seat."

Molly and Arthur hurried their way to queue with the other recipients. A flash of nerves overtook Molly as she looked out at the sea of faces. Hermione, standing behind she and Aruthr, saw this and squeezed her hand tightly.

“Good I made it.”

Molly glanced behind her to see Ron beaming at them. He gave his parents a quick hug and a quick arm squeeze to Hermione before standing behind her. Molly glanced around his shoulder to see that Snape was far at the end of the line of recipients looking sullen.

Merlin knew why he was sticking around. Was it the galleons? Surely it couldn’t be the attention?

She grew distracted as the ceremony began. Speeches were made from various dignitaries and finally a small, pudgy witch with various moles appeared beside Kingsley with a box full of awards on plush red fabric.

“We begin this ceremony with the acknowledgement that none of this could be possible without the insurmountable talents and sacrifices of the following members no longer with us: _Sirius Black_ -“

A rousing round of applause went around the room. Harry had come to stand behind Ron, his eyes filling with tears. Ginny pressed a kiss to his cheek. More names were called out and then-

“ _Remus and Tonks Lupin_ -“

More applause and more tears from everyone in the line. More names were called out.

“ _Fred Weasley_.”

The tears began and Molly, Arthur and the rest of their family began to sniffle. More names were called and finally it was time to award those still around. Those who had fought in the war, those who had sacrificed their youth.

Kingsley shot a warm smile over to his two friends.

“ _We award the Order of Merlin, Second Class to Molly and Arthur Weasley_.”

Several flashbulbs went off as she and Arthur went to accept their award. They accepted the medals with their heads held high and posed for various photos before moving off the stage. They took their seats at one of the reserved tables, giving a nervous giggle at what had just happened. It still seemed surreal that the war was over.

The line was small now, and as Ginny and George went to accept their award, Molly couldn’t help but clap and cheer with such pride she thought her smile and heart may burst.

The room quieted, knowing that the next awards would be Order _of Merlin’s, First Class_. Ron was the first announced, along with a sweet speech about friendship and he and Harry’s lasting loyalty to one another. Molly felt a lump rise in her throat as she watched Ron walk across the stage and waiting as they pinned the award to his robes.

He joined his parents at the table, giving them a toothy grin that made him look eleven again. Molly could recall far too easily the day the two boys had met one another. She was lost for a moment in reverie, jerked out of it only when she heard a familiar name.

“… _to Hermione Granger_ ,” Kingsley was saying now, looking at Hermione as she nervously took to the stage. She moved with a nervous energy, pausing briefly to shake Kingsley’s hand and whisper something into his ear. Likely a thank you for everything.

Ron, Harry and the rest of the room were clapping loudly. Ron shouted something that made Hermione giggle up on the stage.

Compelled, Molly glanced over to her left, noticing that Snape was clapping along with the rest of the crowd as Hermione stood on the stage. Molly had been certain he’d be scowling and withdrawn when Hermione went to accept her award.

Interesting. Perhaps Snape had changed after all.

Hermione gave an embarrassed nod to the crowd, awkwardly posing with Kingsley as the flashbulbs went off and finally joining Ron and his family at their table.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” she whispered to Ron as she sat next to him.

“I loved it,” Ron enthused. “The galleons don’t hurt either.”

“Or the girl’s you’ll shag now that you’re an Order of Merlin winner.”

“Well,” Ron hedged with a broad smile. “That’s just a fringe benefit, innit?”

Only Harry and Snape remained and they were chatting quietly to one another. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about. Harry was very private about his meetings with Snape.

"This award is far overdue," Kingsley said to the crowd. "For a man who sacrificed so much in the aid of winning this war. He is a man who proves that kindness and bravery are not just Gryffindor traits. A man who did what he had to, to ensure our freedom. It is my esteemed pleasure to award Severus Snape with the Order Of Merlin, first class."

Snape’s long-limbed walk across the stage was similar to Hermione’s in pace and intensity. It was obvious he didn’t want to be on the stage longer than necessary. At the comparison, Molly glanced over to see Hermione cheering loudly with the rest of the ballroom. The sound was deafening and he deserved it.

Molly watched as Snape stood in the center of the stage, his eyes in the middle distance, giving a polite nod as Kingsley pinned the green-ribboned medal to his chest. 

Before they knew it Harry had accepted the final award of the night and soon the room was filled with music, good food and drink. Many attendees were dancing away, their laughter the perfect soundtrack to a lovely evening.

After a lovely dinner and a bit of tipsy dancing, Molly perched herself on her chair to take a breath. Arthur was weaving his way to the bar, ready to grab more champagne for them. As her eyes followed him, Hermione and Ron came into view through the crowd, laughing at one end of the bar. On the other side stood Snape and a lately arrived Minerva McGonagall in deep conversation. 

If Minerva and Ron hadn’t stepped away at precisely that moment, Molly never would have seen what she did. But given that the two excused themselves, Hermione and Snape were left alone at opposite ends of the bar, facing away from one another.

Molly watched in mute amusement as the two held their wine glasses awkwardly in their fingertips. Both awkwardly tapped their left foot twice before taking a quick sip of wine and appearing to sigh heavily. They both looked bored to tears. 

It was then that Molly was momentarily struck by something that as of now seemd quite obvious. She thought of Hermione’s list earlier in the evening. Molly went through her imaginary checklist as she clapped along with the crowd.

_Intelligence? Youngest Professor ever at Hogwarts. Brilliant in potions, dark_

_Arts. Tic._

_Says what he thinks? Double tic._

_Passionate? Well he'd pined over a dead woman over a decade, that had to hint at some kind of passion, surely?_

Another tic was added to her imaginary list. Yes the poor dear could use a hair wash and some lessons on polite conversation but still. He was a potential diamond in the rough.

Hermione herself was next to be put under Molly’s internal scrutiny. While Severus didn't give Molly a specific list to work from per say she could still take down the girl's positives and weigh them against Snape's past proclivities.

_Intelligent? So many tics!_

_Independent? Tic!_

_Vapid? Most assuredly not._

As she went over Hermione’s list of past paramours Molly also couldn't help but notice the similarities between Victor and Snape - both tall and lithe, large noses, dark hair and pale skin. Hmmm. Did the girl have a type? A preference for unique, striking looking men?

And Severus, it was well known he had fallen in love with a smart, spirited woman. She could only assume that not much had changed in terms of those preferences. Molly looked from one solitary figure to the next, almost mirrored images when the idea came to her.

She would need to meddle.


	2. Chapter 2

The burrow was peacefully empty. A quick glance at the Weasley clock told Molly that all her loved ones were exactly where they should be. She should have the morning all to herself.

Normally she would busy herself with dinner plans for that evening, tidy around the house, or even begin working on a jumper for Bill and Fleur’s daughter, she couldn’t help but get distracted.

She sat before the fire in her squashiest chair, a skein of cobalt blue yarn in her lap and a forgotten cup of tea at her elbow.

The thoughts of Hermione Granger and Severus Snape were persistently on her mind. What had started as an amusing thought when witnessing them the previous week had turned into a full blown obsession.

It was such a genius idea, really. The two were so well matched it was a shock no one had ever commented upon it before. Brilliant, book-obsessed, perfectionists with a penchant for ignoring their hair in favour of a good potions article.

As she sat absently rolling yarn between her fingers, Molly tried to go over a scenario in her mind that would bring the two brilliant minds together. She'd need to assemble a team, that much was certain. She couldn't do it on her own and be successful.

She had a good relationship with Hermione; that would be a simple connection. But Severus? She rarely spoke to the infamously private man save for public functions. And even then he mostly kept to himself. She had no way of reaching out to him without arousing suspicion.

But thankfully she knew someone who did.

***

"I think it's a brilliant idea!"

Minerva fairly jumped up from her seat as she made this exclamation, almost upsetting her tea cup.

The two women were in Molly's bright kitchen, a pot of strong tea and a plate of ginger newts resting between them on the rose-patterned tablecloth.

Molly was shocked at this response from the normally staid headmistress of Hogwarts. She had been expecting an argument or a flat out refusal. Instead Minerva was flushed with joy, her eyes sparkling excitedly.

"You do?"

"Oh yes," Minerva nodded, her brogue clipped in delight. "The boy needs some affection in his life. Hermione is an inspired choice. She was wasting her life away with that Krum."

Molly couldn't help but agree out loud. The two women paused a moment, each lost in a thought of Severus and Hermione together. What their wedding would look like. And the children? Merlin they would be brilliant! Although she did hope they inherited Hermione’s nose.

"I think it's fair to say they respect one another," Molly finally said diplomatically, brushing the crumbs off her table without thinking. "They may not like each other romantically, but that's because they likely don't consider the other as a plausible romantic partner."

"Indeed," Minerva nodded looking thoughtfully at her biscuit. "It's hard to imagine how it would work."

"But even you can agree that they're perfectly matched!" Molly's teacup clattered as she spoke emphatically, concerned that Minerva may be changing her mind. "I just don't see how to get them together in a way that not suspicious."

"We can't throw them together for no apparent reason. They'll be at each other's throats within seconds. Or wore they’ll just ignore one another. They need to be somewhere neutral. Somewhere they don't suspect is a set up."

The two women lapsed into thoughtful silence. They had to ensure their own presence during this meeting between the two. But how could they orchestrate that without it looking suspicious?

It was Minerva who came upon the plan, speaking so passionately that ginger newt crumbs fell everywhere.

"Molly, do you still have those monthly Sunday suppers?"

"I do."

"It's my birthday this month," McGonagall was smiling widely. "I’ll tell Severus you're having a small supper for me and that I would be devastated if he didn't attend."

"And of course Hermione will want to be there as well!" Molly added with a gleeful clap of her pudgy hands. "Along with a few family members! Brilliant!"

And so the plan was set in motion.

***

Molly was waiting at the front door, pink-cheeked and wearing a garish green striped apron. She had been cooking all morning in preparation for this event and now that it was moments away she was fairly vibrating with joy.

Minerva was already seated at the head of the table, citing that Molly needed to relax a bit. Molly ignored her and was furiously pacing back and forth in front of the heavy oak door to her home.

Ron was the first to apparate to the Burrow with his latest girlfriend, Rhonda in tow. They came walking up the steps of the Burrow, giggling to themselves. Harry came seconds later with Ginny cooing at the bundle of pink in her arms.

Finally Hermione came in at their heels, giving a broad smile to her friends as they called out their welcome to her. They all embraced, chatting animatedly. 

“Come in come in,” Molly insisted, bustling them inside. “You’ll catch your death!”

“It’s not that cold out,” Ron laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek and motioning to the woman at his right. “You remember Rhonda, eh Mum?”

“Ah yes,” Molly said, her smile a bit strained. “How good to see you.”

“And you, ma’am,” was the saccharine and insincere reply.

Rhonda was… interesting. Molly had met the girl by chance when she ran into she and Ron at Diagon Alley. In truth, Molly thought Rhonda was a flighty as Luna with none of the charm.

Arthur and the remaining Weasley men were helping Bill in Romania with his latest excursion. Fleur was at home, pregnant and miserable. So the house wasn’t as full as Molly had been anticipating but the more intimate setting was better for her plans.

“This is my sister Ginny, her husband Harry and our best mate, Hermione,” Ron said with warmth as he smiled and introduced his oldest friends to his current flame. “We’ve been friends since we were eleven.”

“Has it really been so long?” Harry said with a dramatic sigh that everyone chuckled at. Everyone but Rhonda. She seemed fixed on Hermione, her light eyes appraising the brunette.

"Pleasure to meet you Rhonda," Hermione was saying in a tone that felt genuine. Molly watched this all as Ginny came over, handing the baby over to her (as was tradition). Molly bobbed a cooing James up and down in her arms as she covertly watched the group.

"The pleasure is all mine," the blonde witch replied. "Darling Ronald is always going on about his brilliant _mate_. I couldn't wait to meet you."

The message was clear: _You’re the friend, I’m the girlfriend_. She may as well have urinated on poor Ron’s leg.

Hermione gave a strained smile, as if observing only now that she was the only singleton of her friends. Molly watched them through her eyelashes, still a little pained to see Hermione so out of place. But the girl smiled brightly and turned her attention to Molly as she held up a parcel wrapped in tartan.

"Where shall we put gifts?"

***

“Oh Hermione! So good to see you!” Minerva crowed as the group wandered into the kitchen.

“And you,” Hermione replied, giving the woman a tight squeeze. She took the seat nearest Minerva and the rest of the group took their chairs as well, fairly balking at the sight before them.

A large tartan cloth was spread on the long table and the amount of food upon it was ludicrous. Pasties, soups, breads, salads, beans, chicken, beef wellington and more!

“There’s enough to feed an army!” Harry observed with wide eyes peering over a mountain of rolls.

“Or just Ron,” Ginny giggled. Ron gave her a playful punch on the arm. Rhonda was about to take the seat next to Hermione when Molly gripped the girl by the arm gently and directed her into a seat at the far end of the table.

“This way you’ll be able to mingle with all the guests,” she explained when Rhonda pulled a moue of displeasure. This left the seat next to Hermione open and perfect for the next phase of their plan. Molly and Minerva shot each other covert looks, trying not to smile too widely. 

Minerva opened her gifts from around the table, touched at the perfume, chocolates and (her favourite gift) the sculpted oak _quaich_ from Hermione. She looked at the shallow cup, marvelling at its beautiful creation. 

“What’s that thing?” Rhonda said, her disdain evident.

“A quaich is a traditional drinking cup,” Minerva said shortly. “And this one is beautiful.”

Rhonda muttered something under her breath that sounded like ‘ _quite ugly’_ but everyone chose to ignore it, including Ron. Molly returned from putting James down from a nap and began to hand out rolls. 

“Thank you all for celebrating my birthday with me,” Minerva said in her customary brisk but loving way as she glanced around the table of smiling faces. “I don’t often celebrate the passing of time, but dear Molly convinced me.”

“And I’m glad she did,” Hermione insisted warmly pressing a hand over Minerva’s. “It’s been ages since we’ve seen you outside of the school.”

“Here here!” Harry said, raising his glass and they all toasted to one Minerva McGonagall. 

“I’m still new to everyone,” Rhonda said, taking the bowl of soup that Molly had begun to ladle out for everyone. “Now, I know Minerva taught at Hogwarts.”

“I did,” Minerva gave a curt nod. “I am now the Headmistress.”

“And Harry and Ginny have been married a few years.”

“We have.”

“And Hermione, you and Ron used to date, did you not?”

All eyes swivelled to Rhonda at the far end of the table directing her obviously sharp question at Hermione. Molly felt her chest seize at the inappropriate way the girl was speaking. 

Before Hermione could answer there came a knock at the door. 

_Thank Merlin._

Molly got up quickly, trying to look nonplussed. She moved to the front door and swung it open. All eyes were on the tall figure as he stood on the landing dressed in black trousers and a charcoal sweater.

“Oh you made it!” Molly said in a sing-song tune that was just joyful enough to make him flinch. She took his travelling cloak as he entered, looking as out of place in the cheery kitchen as a rain cloud on a summer day.

“Good afternoon,” he said, thrusting rectangular item at Molly. It looked like Honeyduke’s chocolates , his hostess gift.

“Oh thank you,” Molly gushed as she stepped back to welcome her into her home.

Snape glanced around the space slowly, his eyes stuttering on Hermione a moment before moving to the rest of the group. Minerva saw this and felt emboldened.

"Severus how good of you to join us!"

Snape gave a deferential nod in her direction. He made no move to thank Molly for the invitation. Instead he stood awkwardly, as if uncertain where he should stand or sit.

"Please take a seat," Molly said, motioning to the table they walked towards.

"There is a space next to Hermione," Minerva said casually, her eyes flicking to Molly's briefly in a silent exchange. Snape said nothing but he took the empty spot between Hermione and Ginny.

But not before handing a small parcel to Minerva.

“Here you are,” Snape said, his eyes holding warmth as he smiled at the woman. “Happy Birthday.”

Minerva smiled broadly at Severus. It was no secret that she thought of the man as her own adopted son. She waited for him to sit before ripping the paper, opening the box and offering a short gasp of surprise.

“My goodness! Great minds really do think alike.”

With a large smile, she retrieved Hermione’s present earlier and placed them side by side. Both the witch and wizard had bought her a _quaich_. Both of them had theirs engraved with “Minerva McGonagall” in it. The only difference was Hermione’s was oak and Severus was pewter.

“They’re stunning,” she said with tears in her eyes. “They’ll look so lovely on my mantle. Thank you so much, both of you.”

To Molly’s surprise, Hermione and Severus exchanged small smiles at the coincidence.

Perfect.

Now, to guide the conversation to something the two could further bond over. Potions was the obvious choice– Hermione was a newly lauded potions mistress and Snape with his apothecary.

However, like a dog with a bone, Rhonda continued on her previously aborted topic.

“I just can’t imagine you and Ron together,” Rhonda laughed loudly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “You just don’t seem to fit at all.”

Molly and Minerva exchanged looks of horror. Harry and Ginny gave one others hand a squeeze under the table and Ron looked completely pink around the cheeks.

Hermione was looking at her meal while Snape seemed content to sit, tearing a piece of bread off in his fingertips before popping it into his mouth and chewing it with vigor. He seemed quite oblivious to the happenings around him. 

“I think we would both agree,” Hermione smiled with a small laugh. It was no secret that the relationship of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger was as mismatched as ever could be.

Molly breathed a sigh of relief, the topic was now over and--

“Is it true you were dating Viktor Krum? For a few years wasn’t it?”

To her credit, Hermione didn’t look too irritated. Likely because she didn’t want to spoil Minerva’s birthday. Instead she forced an obviously polite smile on her face and nodded sharply.

“Erm, yes. I was.”

“Why on earth would you let that man go?” Rhonda gushed, looking star struck at even the mention of the famous Quidditch Player. “Fame, fortune! And he’s proper handsome as well. What more could a witch want?”

Minerva, normally quick to state when she was unhappy, looked positively shocked at the direction of the conversation. She was slowly turning her attention to Molly, practically screaming with her eyes.

_Get this under control!_

“I suppose I wanted something different,” Hermione said diplomatically. She had no desire to drag Krum’s name into the mud. “We both did, I think.”

“Who left who?”

“Pardon?”

“Who ended things?”

Ron had leaned over now, humiliated, and whispered something into Rhonda’s ear. She batted him away with a giggle. He pulled back, looking glum. Ginny and Harry looked as if they were about to bolt from their seats and throttle the girl. But they too didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Oh Ronny you know I’m nosy! If she doesn’t want to answer she doesn’t have to!”

“I ended things,” Hermione interrupted, obviously wanting to move past the subject and end it completely. 

Molly could see Snape continuing to eat his soup, but even the normally oblivious professor was listening to this discussion. She could tell by the way his eyes darted to Hermione and then back at his food.

“Really?”

“Yes,” Hermione bit the word off. “I did.”

“I must say, I’m surprised,” Rhonda said with a small blink. “I would have expected the other way ‘round.”

She laughed awkwardly as the group silently continued to eat their meal. Molly could see Hermione’s cheeks growing a flaming red at the insult. But she knew no one would want to cause a scene during Minerva’s birthday. Nonetheless all eyes were on Hermione as she sat looking despondently into her soup bowl.

“I find this soup to be far too salty,” Snape said abruptly, causing all eyes to turn on him.

“P-pardon?” Minerva said as if she hadn’t heard correctly.

“This soup,” Snape repeated a little more loudly. “I find it’s been over salted. Delicious otherwise, Molly. ”

Molly stared agape at Snape before looking down at her split pea soup. She hadn’t made any deviations from her normal recipe. She hadn’t even added extra salt!

“I think it tastes great,” Harry defended. The rest of the group came quickly to agree with him. Hermione looked positively furious with the man at her side and had actually turned in her chair to face him.

“That’s so impossibly rude of you,” Hermione huffed. “This soup tastes marvellous.”

Snape’s gaze narrowed and bits of pink appeared at the top of his cheeks. He inclined his head slightly so that he could peer out at her from behind his hair.

“How alarming,” Snape offered dryly. “If your palate cannot discern obviously over salted food, I wonder how you ever attained the title of Potions Mistress. I suppose they're simply giving out credentials these days?”

The ends of Hermione’s hair were almost crackling with intensity. Her hands were balled into fists on the table.

“Thankfully your opinion matters little unless I wanted to sell my potions in your shop,” Hermione shot back. “And I’d only want to do that if I wanted them to sit on the shelves for years due to lack of customers!”

Snape stood abruptly, tossing his napkin to the table and shooting Hermione a murderous look. He dragged his gaze away from her and onto Minerva for a brief moment.

“Happy Birthday, Minerva.”

With that he had strode from the table, out the front door and they heard the crack of his disapparation.

The group fell into an awed silence of what had just transpired. Hermione herself was looking dazed, as if she couldn’t believe she had just screamed at Severus Snape of all people.

The silence was only broken by the nasal tone of Rhonda from the far end of the table.

“Who _was_ that?”

***

Later that night Molly and Minerva said in front of the fire with a tumbler of firewhiskey. The group had disbanded quietly after a solemn dessert leaving the two older women to wallow in self pity about how the entire evening had gone tits up. 

"Well that went as horribly as one could imagine," Minerva said with a deep frown as she took another liberal sip.

"It wasn't the right circumstances," Molly mused aloud. "We went about this the wrong way. Too many people! They're the private sort.”

They sat looking into the fire, feeling dreadful. The entire night had been spoiled. And thankfully, Molly got the impression that the reign of Rhonda was quickly coming to an end. Thank goodness for small miracles.

“We need to find a project for them to bond over,” Molly said, struck by inspiration. “Something where they can work one on one.”

"We?"

"The more time spent alone, the more they will come to see they're actually quite perfect for one another," Molly finished readily.

"They're clearly both too stubborn for this to work," Minerva sniffed, obviously bored of her involvement. "Regrettable."

Molly sat up straight in her chair, giving Minerva a desperate look.

"You're not saying you've given up?"

"I'm not a woman accustomed to losing," Minerva explained with a gaze that brought to mind flutters on Quidditch games past. "I won't back a losing thestral. I'm afraid you're on your own, Molly."

Molly sighed darkly, her eyes on the flames as she calculated the next steps in her plan.

She wasn’t giving up.

She simply needed a new partner.


	3. TRIGGER WARNING: DARK THEMES

Hello darling readers,

I know I haven't been as active and I apologize.

Life is a bit hard these days.

Money is tight.

My depressive episodes once short now lengthen into week long (or more) events where I can't leave bed.

Life feels black and white instead of its normal vivid hues.

My hands have a harder time typing. They feel heavy and clumsy.

My stories all seem rubbish and the characters I write are all dark and miserable. I feel I have no talent.

I start stories and cannot finish. Not out of lack of interest but out of lack of energy.

So much energy not to sink into the void. Like Devil's Snare I'm constantly trying to avoid.

"Relax," it whispers to me, cradling me as it constricts. "The more you fight, the harder it becomes. Give in.. Give in and you'll find freedom there."

On dark nights I consider it.

And then like a fire spell though a creeper, a new day dawns and I'm free. I can breathe again.

But just when I think I've been released, slowly the tendrils wrap around me and pull me back. Reminding me that I'm never truly free.

So my darling readers, please know that I'm still plugging away on my stories, but updates may be a bit slow.

If you write me and I don't answer as quickly or at all for a bit, please don't be bothered or upset. I always carry you with me like little torches in the darkness.

Always.


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